Say it with songs
by Little Miss188
Summary: A fic based on Klaine related songs set post break up, the story is much better than my summary! Just read- it's my take on what happens after the infamous Klaine break up


"_The power lines went out and I am all alone,_

_But I don't really care at all, not answering my phone."_

The click of Isabelle's heels should have been enough to shake Kurt out of his trance but he just sat there slumped on the office floor, with his tear trails slowly drying down his face, his mind back in Lima. He could faintly make out her shrill cry of shock when she found him sat alone in the dark but right now he couldn't focus. He couldn't snap out of it.

From the corner of his eye, Kurt could see his cell light up again with another call or text but he didn't even make the effort to decline it. Soon he would get the message.

Isabelle flicked on the main lights as she began to witter on; it was only the brightness that sparked him back into awareness. "I didn't think anyone would be in the office, not so early in the morning. Are these late night visits going to become a regular occurrence? Because I don't think Anna would be too pleased if they were..."

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled half heartedly, trying to push himself off from the floor but with great difficulty. "I- err- there were a few pieces of paperwork I didn't get to finish today, thought it would be best to clear them."

"At three o'clock in the morning?" Isabelle questioned her head cocked to the side.

Kurt shrugged. She knew he was lying but that didn't mean he'd have to tell her the truth. Isabelle wouldn't push: she didn't need to; sometimes Kurt would swear she was psychic. "He'll ring, apologise, you'll be back together in no time."

He waved his hand. Calling was exactly what he wanted Blaine to stop doing. How could he face a phone conversation with him? And what more was left to be said? He'd left New York without saying goodbye; if Blaine could leave so easily he obviously had very little to discuss. And besides, what would his words mean? Sorry is just a word, it doesn't change anyone's actions. There would never be a guarantee that he would refuse a hook up again and God knows Blaine would get the offers. No, there was always one part of his new life that was too good to be true but Kurt had never imagined it would have been Blaine. When his old life had been in turmoil Blaine had been the one constant but then he wasn't living his old life anymore, perhaps, somewhere down the line he'd outgrown Blaine.

"Well, whatever, he'll make it up to you or you'll move on, I've never known anyone to die of a broken heart and certainly never someone as brave or fierce as you my good friend." Kurt still didn't move. She sighed. "If you ever want somebody to talk it out with-"

"No." came Kurt's instant reply. "I mean, it's nice of you to offer but I'd really rather talk about something else."

Isabelle frowned but didn't argue. Instead, she kicked off her heels and slouched down against Kurt's desk with him. "You're not alone, you know?" Kurt half nodded. "I mean it kiddo; you have me and I have you. It's not like I have any suitors either, that's why we'll have to stick together out there." Kurt attempted to smile.

His phone flashed again.

"Are you going to answer that?"

* * *

"Please, answer," Blaine muttered into his phone, his voice half hoarse. This was the seventh time in the past hour Blaine had tried to call Kurt and the seventh time he'd been denied a reply. Blaine knew Kurt was awake because he'd tried calling Vogue's office before in after hours and he'd picked up without checking the number but he hadn't said much because as soon as he heard Blaine's voice he hung up.

What was this? What were they?

Were they still together? Broken up? On a break?

Did it even matter?

Despite any status they may or may not have together, Blaine knew that he'd hurt Kurt and that was the most important thing. It was the one fact he couldn't escape. The one picture that haunted his nights. He could not forget Kurt's face as he told him about his hook up: the condemning eyes tinted with disbelief stared at him as he tried to rest. They asked him "why" but he could not answer because there was no valid reason. Loneliness was no excuse. If only he'd realised that instead of acting in the moment.

He got the machine, again.

"Hi Kurt, listen, I know you're there. I know you're ignoring these calls and you'll probably delete my voice mails but I need you to listen. What I did was wrong, Kurt. I... I need you." Pause. "I still love you Kurt- and I can't believe you hate me now. You don't, do you? Ring me back or something. I'm going crazy here. I love you."

* * *

The vibrating stopped and Kurt's phone's screen faded to black once more. "He'll just ring back." Kurt mumbled to himself.

"Turn it off?" Isabelle suggested but Kurt shook his head. Somehow it would be worse for Kurt not to know that Blaine was trying to get through to him than knowing and ignoring it. It would be harder to accept no remorse than to ignore any. "Well whatever you do, you can't stay here all night." She said, moving back to stand up, accidentally knocking Kurt's vase of dying flours onto the floor. She quickly rushed to collect them but Kurt was there before her, already fingering each stem delicately and breathing in their stale smell as if it was intoxicating. "You do know they're dying Kurt?"

"Yes." He knew. Yes.

Isabelle didn't ask any more questions.

* * *

Smiling happy faces, heads leant against shoulders, gentle stolen kisses: how could these photos that had once made him smile daily be such an eyesore now? Blaine couldn't help but stare at the inside of his locker, it was the first time he'd seen them since New York and in truth he'd forgotten all about them, he hadn't really been thinking this morning due to sleep deprivation. Now he couldn't do anything but stop and stare; he was paralysed by this overwhelming sadness.

At the bottom of his locker sat his little toy dog, a present from Kurt, Margaret Thatcher staring at him with puppy dog eyes. They seemed to be judging him. Blaine shook his head and pushed the stuffed figure to the back, covering it with books so he no longer had to look. He snatched his world history and French textbooks and then slammed the door shut.

"Whoa, somebody's in a bad mood today!" Blaine turned to see Sam had been watching him, he'd completely forgotten they'd organized to meet up and speak about presidency stuff before classes.

"Yeah, sorry about that: look, can we do this later, I kind of just want to be alone right now to think."

Sam frowned; it had been Blaine's idea to even have this discussion in the first place... "Is everything alright bro?"

Blaine could only manage to shake his head; he didn't trust himself to be able to stop the tears.

He calmed himself and was about to reply when he felt his phone vibrate.


End file.
